The Ground He Walks Upon
by Dev Nine-Asher
Summary: AU, AR Elizabeth Buffy and William, in 1880, London. As the Slayer, will Buffy have to kill her old friend William in order to save Cecily from his wrath? Is he really a vampire?


_**The Ground He Walks Upon**_

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_Author: _Dev Nine-Asher

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I/I

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"You're beneath me."

It came to William just as his dearest Cecily had finished daintily stomping on his heart…the urge for revenge.

Having been raised a gentleman, it was a completely foreign notion to him, and it took a moment of reflection for him to be able to put a name to it. In fact, it took such a very long moment that he almost missed his chance.

Cecily was standing, huffing, looking down on him with such a mixture of pity, and disgust that his embarrassment and hurt nearly undid him. Helpless against the onslaught of the knowledge that she didn't want him, could never want him, he sought and met her eyes for the barest second before she blinked and hurriedly looked away, shame reddening her round cheeks. She picked up her delicate lilac skirts and turned away to exit the small parlor.

William sat on the small, ridiculously feminine settee, his shoulders hunched, his notebook propped across his knees, and almost let her go. His pride was crushed, his self-confidence – what little he been possessed of to begin with – near completely annihilated. He found himself looking about the lavishly outfitted room in disbelief.

Had it really just happened? Had the lady of his dreams truly just thrown his devotion, his _love_, back in his face?

"_You're beneath me."_

With the ache of her rejection, the thoughtless cruelty of her words…came tears. Hot and wet, they flooded his eyes, making them sting; they came unheeded, and despite his attempt to blink them away, they refused to abate. He made a slight sniff, and to his ultimate horror, saw Cecily pause at the threshold, and turn as if to look back at him.

William could only gaze back at her, his broken heart visible in the blue eyes softened by the round lenses of his spectacles.

Cecily blanched slightly, but then sighed, rolling her doe-brown eyes as if in complete dismissal of his very existence, and continued on her way.

William stared after her. She'd seen him cry. A grown man, crying! His humiliation was complete! He sat as stone, so filled with pain he was weighted down by it, unable to move…

Failure. It was nothing new. More people than he could possibly count, throughout the course of his life had turned him down. Publishers had turned him away, laughing, and so had the few women he'd worked up the courage to ask to dance – or pay court to. His tentative offers of friendship at school had always ended up going completely awry…he just could not seem to make anything go right. Everything he tried met with obloquy and ridicule.

Dear Lord, _why_ was it so hard to fit in? Why was it so difficult?

_It isn't my fault. It's theirs._

His pen broke in his hand before he realized that a new emotion had joined the melee warring inside his chest.

It was anger.

No, not just anger…a fury so intense it almost frightened him. He'd never feared himself before, but his temper had suddenly taken itself off to new heights.

He felt as if he could happily do murder, and very well might before the ill-fated night had seen its out.

He thought about all the abuse he had taken from society, and for how long, and Cecily…just thinking about her name now brought a snarl to his lips, and it felt good…right.

Before he even knew what he was about, William stood, his book and broken pen, which had been leaking ink into the priceless rug beneath his feet, falling unnoticed to the floor.

"_Cecily_."

William barely recognized his own voice. All the softness and gentility had gone from it, leaving a deep, seductive roughness that had him catching Cecily's attention just as she reached the outer edges of the party beyond the parlor.

William felt the most irrepressible urge to smile as she slowly turned, her arrival back into the grand foyer having as yet gone unnoticed, and fixed her eyes on him with a confused, almost wary glance.

Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, William nonchalantly wrapped it around his blood and ink-stained hand, gaining a great amount of satisfaction from the way her heavily-lidded eyes widened in alarm at the sight of his blood staining the pristine white linen.

Cecily stepped quickly back into the room, crossing to him with her hands automatically reaching out to catch his. She obviously thought better of it when she realized that getting too close to him might ruin her gown, and she stopped a few meters shy of him.

William looked the dark beauty over with sudden distaste, something which quite shocked him. He'd fancied himself in love with her for months, now, and had long since been convinced that she was an angel, that she could do no wrong.

Well, she had wronged _him_, and for that, he was going to _ruin_ her.

"Oh, William! What have you done to yourself now?" Cecily moaned, pressed a gloved finger to her lips. "You've hurt yourself…and it was all because of me!"

William felt his eyebrows rise, for her voice had risen at just such a pitch so as to enable the rest of the guests to hear. Here he was, wounded and bleeding, and she was conceited enough to believe that he might harm himself intentionally because she'd refused him. She didn't care how or why he was hurt; she only cared about how much attention could be gained from his pain! Her callousness knew no bounds!

Good God, she was a selfish twit! How had he managed to look beyond this obvious flaw in her character for all these weeks?

Because he was nearly thirty years, and he was still as green as any young boy, living on his daydreams and escaping into his poetry in an effort to dull the pain from the caustic opinions of London's social set.

William's lips thinned as he carelessly knotted the handkerchief around his cut palm, and clenched his jaw against the anger threatening to consume him.

Where had his courage gone? Indeed, had he even been born with any? His father, had he lived to his birth, would no doubt have been mightily disappointed in his one and only heir. Their family had seen far worse trials in it's time, and their name had once been nothing less than legendary.

William had, albeit indirectly, made it a joke.

Before, when he'd first set out to speak with his lady, his heart had been beating too fast, and his hands had been shaking. Now they were doing the same, but for very opposite reasons.

If Cecily wanted attention, he decided with a grim smile, he would give it to her in bloody spades!

Before the night was out, she would be the very _center_ of attention…!

--

Elizabeth Summers was finding the gathering to be a complete and endless bore. The hour she'd been here had passed in a strange kind of lethargy for her.

Of course she was used to much more energetic pursuits, being the vampire slayer.

Hunting demons every night was much more preferable to enduring social events such as these. Thankfully, she didn't have to endure them often. The Watcher's Council took great pains to attain her invitations when necessary on occasions such as these, when there had been reports of vampires slipping into private homes during gatherings, and killing nearly every occupant within.

Elizabeth – or Buffy, as she preferred to be called – was after a certain master vampire this night. Angelus, the Scourge of Europe, The Terror of Mongolia…the vampire and his paramours had been sighted carousing around London of late, and Buffy was here in hopes of drawing them out. She didn't possess the hubris to think that she could destroy all three of the notorious creatures on her own, but if she could trail them, find out where they were staying, she might be able to somehow part them, and kill them one at a time…

A flicker of movement in the shadows across the room caught at her eye. Buffy was on the move before she even noticed, tracking the suspicious movement with her eyes as she carefully crossed the crowded room. She found herself standing in front of an entryway into a small parlor, and she kept against the doorway as she carefully peered inside.

What she had seen was the edge of a pale silk skirt, she realized, and she quietly looked over the two occupants of the small, darkened room to make certain everything was well before she turned away to leave them to their private business.

"Oh, William! What have you done to yourself now?"

Buffy's ears perked. _William_? She looked back, curious.

Yes, it _was_ William! William Pratt, of all people!

"You've hurt yourself…and it was all because of me!"

Buffy rolled her eyes as she recognized the other person in the room Of course. Who else would poor William be trying to talk to?

Cecily Addams. She was such a bloody dramatist! The stupid girl wasn't happy unless the whole of society was fawning at her feet, and this seemed to be another just such occasion to call further attention to herself.

Buffy knew William fancied himself in love with the worthless twit, and she knew about the nasty things Cecily said about him behind his back. Oh, she was nice enough to the poor boy to his face, pretending patience with him, stringing him along. But once her flock gathered about her, she was positively hateful. If there was one thing Buffy could not stand about her, it was the fact that she was as two-faced as they come, and twice as rotten. She was fairly certain there were moldy black spots on the other girl's very soul…if she even had one, that is.

Hazel green eyes narrowed on the girl's corseted back. Perhaps it was time she intervened on behalf of her old friend…

Buffy was about to walk forward, and put on the act of her life to save William from what was certain to become a very public humiliation when she caught the expression on his face.

Buffy was surprised. Before, William had looked upon the girl with absolute adoration. He was now looking at Cecily Addams as a starving wolf looked, at last, on it's prey.

She'd known William almost her entire life…before she'd become the Slayer. Oh, they still greeted each other politely when they chanced to meet, but they'd never been truly close. She'd known him as a child, from when their mothers would occaisionally meet for tea. He was nearly ten years older than her, and the last time she'd truly spoken with him had been when he'd been busily Oxford-bound. He'd been flighty and nervous about going off to school, and yet he'd still made time to sit and chat with a precocious little girl.

The look in his once-soft blue eyes made her skin tighten in apprehension. William had always been a gentle, harmless-looking soul. The man she saw before her now bared little resemblance to that boy.

William's abrupt change in character suddenly pointed at only one thing – sadly, the most likely thing.

As she watched, he pulled off his spectacles, folding them and tucking them in the breast pocket of his out-moded linen-colored morning coat – which was more likely due to his absent-mindedness about things like regular visits to his tailor than to lack of funds. He spoke to Cecily in a low, urgent voice, walking toward her with a swiftness of foot that belied his need for vision-correction.

Buffy frowned as she heard him mention something about the rear gardens, saw the other girl balk, hesitate, saw William lift his hand to softly touch her face…and heard the girl reluctantly agree with a shiver of anticipation.

A positively diabolic smile crossed William's lips, and he kissed the back of Cecily's hand before he bowed to her, and turned to leave the room.

Buffy pressed herself to the wall, turning her face away until he had passed. She then cautiously looked after him as he made his way through the crowd toward the back terrace. His back was straight, his shoulder's elevated from their usual slumped position, and his chin was lifted high as he passed a knot of 'gentlemen' who began a mean-spirited laughter at the sight of him.

"'_Tis grown a bulge in it'!"_ one handlebar-mustached man howled, and Buffy felt her chest ache in pity as the man's cronies doubled over right along with him.

Dear William had doubtless been fiddling with his 'poetry' again. He really did write the most dreadful stuff, she recalled, but at least he was honest in it. His words had always come from his very heart.

Buffy began following William, sidestepping people as she passed, frustrated when the man who'd been laughing at her old friend decided to accost her.

"Miss Elizabeth! How lovely to see you again! It _has_ been a long time, hasn't it? Haven't seen you around lately." Lasher, who was often referred to by his last name, took her hand without asking and bent low over it, kissing the back of it lingeringly.

She'd never been so glad to have been wearing long gloves in her life. Her skin crawled slightly as the moist heat of his breath seeped through the fine fabric, along with the prickle of his preposterous whiskers.

Daniel Lasher was a whoremongering bastard of the worst kind, and she'd observed his drunken antics outside several notorious Whitechapel brothels on many a night as she patrolled the streets of London's East End.

Buffy wanted to snatch her hand back directly and blacken the cheeky blighter's mean, beady little eyes with it for being so familiar, but alas, she had appearances to keep up.

"Why, hello, Mr. Lasher. It has been some time. How is your dear mother? Well, I hope?"

If nothing else could drive the lecherous spark out of Lasher's eyes, it was the mere mention of his very proper, very bluestocking old mum. The old woman had been nearly infamous in the decades previous for her involvement with the women's suffrage movement.

Lasher cleared his throat, straightening as he reached up to fuss with his cravat. He cast a nervous glance around the room, as if fearing his mother could see him all the way from her sickbed, which Buffy well knew the sour old woman lay in.

"Not well, I'm afraid, not well a'tall. Sadly, I fear we shall be mourning her passing soon," Lasher commented, falsely lamenting, and continued making a bid for her pity just as Buffy caught sight of Cecily following William's path.

She must get out of here!

Buffy abruptly made a small sound of distress, and then reached a gloved hand to pat the back of his. "The Lord takes care of His own," she said soothingly. "I shall pray for her in church on Sunday. Tell me, why have I not seen you there lately? I know Father Barnett was just despairing the other day that so many of his flock have turned away from his teachings…surely you haven't forgotten your duty to God – "

"I say, it has been lovely seeing you again, Miss Summers, but I really must be on my way," Lasher stammered, red-faced, eager to get away from her onset of bible-thumping.

Hiding a pleased smile, Buffy nodded to him as he hastily turned away, and continued on through the grand townhouse.

At the back of the large main room she found the floor length windows draped in dark green velvet opened out onto the terrace. As she approached, she heard voices, and she pressed herself against the wall.

" - proper, William."

"Really?"

"Mm... perhaps...perhaps later. Yes. I'll meet you here, after midnight. The party will have quieted down by then. No one will miss me. I'll just excuse myself, and say I'm off for bed."

"Will you, now?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. What was William playing at?

She didn't want to admit that the low rumble in his voice had given her shudders...

Cecily spoke again."I-I'd like to speak with you some more, William."

Buffy made a face. _Dear Lord, what a brainless twit!_

"Of course. I'll be back, then."

Footsteps...Buffy snuck behind a curtain.

"Y-yes."

Willam passed by.

Buffy wanted to retch, overhearing the suggestive discussion. Cecily was repulsive, really, and William - what was he thinking, unless he was just planning on killing her. Yes, that was it. He was probably after her blood. Vengeance...yes; newly-made vampires were known for extracting terrible revenge on those who had tortured them in their human lives..

The possibility that he was going to attack her the moment Cecily was alone, again entered Buffy's mind. After all, he had already gained invitation to her home. What _was_ to keep him from coming back later to kill her?

Could he have become the thing she most dreaded?

Was William a vampire?

With a coldness settling in around her heart, Buffy waited for Cecily to come back inside, and silently slipped out of the party through the gardens, fading into the shadows, readying herself if need be, for the night's hunt.

--

"You are supposed to be hunting Angelus's pack, Miss, not…not standing guard over some spoiled child!"

Buffy glanced at her irate watcher through her lashes, and made a silencing motion with her hand. "Mr. Giles, I will kindly have some quiet, if you please. I must concentrate."

"Yes, I quite agree, but I may point out that you are concentrating on the _wrong thing_!"

"Shush!" Buffy waved frantically as she saw a movement in the shadows outside of Cecily's parent's elegant townhouse.

"Elizabeth – _Buffy_, if I may appeal to your better judgment – "

"Hah! Well, there you have it, sir! I _have_ no better judgement, so you may as well stop appealing to it!"

Giles huffed. "Impertinent chit," he muttered beneath his breath.

"Stuffy codger," Buffy murmured right back.

Buffy felt her heart sink within her breast as she caught sight of the culprit. It was indeed William. He was wearing a different suit of clothes, of darker fabric this time - perhaps in an effort to not be seen?

"There he is," she breathed quietly.

" - shockingly remiss in your duties of late - " Giles was ranting.

"I'll be but a moment," Buffy interrupted. She ignored his sputtering protests and quickly walked across the street again, her gloved hand clenching a wooden stake beneath the heavy fur of her pelisse.

A hand caught her elbow at the curb, and Buffy sighed heavily as she turned to look at her watcher. They did not have time for this!

"Buffy, it is high-time you stop this foolish messing about! You have already been reprimanded by the council for – "

"Oh, dear Giles, forgive me this, but… _bugger_ what the council thinks! If William is indeed a vampire, I shall soon catch him out – and it will be without causing the precious council any undue distress!"

"Blessed Jesus! You'll be the death of me yet, you know," Giles prophesised in an indignant tone.

"If you do not let go of my arm this instant, _he_ may very well be the death of that young girl doubtless waiting for him behind the house," Buffy said grimly.

The watcher paled a little, but eventually released her from his hold. It wasn't as if they didn't both know she could very well have removed his hand herself at any time she wished.

"I will be waiting," Giles said sufferingly.

"Thank you." Buffy smiled at him, taking him off guard, and stealthily crossed the street.

--

The clock tolled one when Buffy saw William meet Cecily in the garden behind the house. The party was winding down, and quite a few guests had come and gone, but the lights were still bright, and the sound of laughter plentiful.

Things were getting rather interesting, a scowling Buffy thought, just as William extracted himself from a clinging Cecily. The other woman's wrap was gone, revealing her bare white - and in Buffy's unkind opinion, rather plump - shoulders to the night air. Her hair was down, tangled from William's fingers (Buffy barely stifled a growl at this) and she had obviously been well-kissed.

Where exactly had William learned that particular skill from!

"But where are you going?" she heard the woman ask breathlessly.

William put a finger to her lips and backed off. "A surprise, just for you. I won't be a moment."

"Hurry, William!" Cecily hissed with a nervous laugh.

William disappeared into the house, to Buffy's surprise.

A few moments later, a cry rose up from within, and a few dozen people crowded out onto the terrace, much to a horrified Cecily's dismay. The dark-haired girl cried out, and an older gentleman Buffy recognized as Cecily's father stalked up to her and wrapped her in his evening coat. He lowered his head with a terrible expression, and spat out his words angrily as he towed her inside.

"But - but nothing happened, I swear! What's going on? Where is - "

"Ruined!" Cecily's father roared, making all the curious guests gasp.

Buffy winced. The man was ferocious!

"What? Ruined? No! NO! Father, I can explain - !"

"Explain! How would your mother feel, knowing her only daughter was meeting with some stranger? How long has this been going on, girl? How long!"

"S-stranger? Oh, but it wasn't - "

"Don't lie to me! But you are caught this time, well and good, aren't you? Even if someone had not shouted out in the midst of _your party _that he had seen you doing..._things_ in the garden with some vile man, you would have been caught out! I was coming up to wish you good night, you see!"

"Someone - ? That evil, _malicious_ - ! Didn't you _see_ who it was! Father, it was not what you think! I was set up, I swear it! It was - "

"I'll not have you spreading anymore lies, Cecily! Get to your rooms, and in the morning you are leaving for the country!"

Buffy winced, and the crowd that had gathered to watch the debacle murmured amongst themselves.

Being sent to the country was the kiss of death for any young woman of good birth and good name.

Cecily's raging father dragged a wailing Cecily inside and the crowd slowly dispersed, gossip already flying fast and furious.

Buffy shook her head in bewilderment. By morning, Cecily's reputation would be well and truly ruined. If she was lucky, perhaps her father might _pay_ someone to marry her one day...

A few yards away from Buffy's hiding place, someone laughed. It was a weak, disparaging sort of laugh, but a laugh all the same.

_William._

Buffy silently got up from her crouching position and made her way towards him in the darkness.

What he had just done was completely heartless, despite the fact that Cecily was a cold wretch who'd deserved every bit of it, and more.

William yelped when she jumped out in front of him, eyes narrowed, stake upraised.

"What the - ? Who - ? Buffy? Is that you?" He squinted in the dark.

Buffy dove at him, and he gasped, jumping back, barely avoiding her, but falling to his back in the grass. His spectacles flew off into the lawn somewhere.

"Stay still, William. It will only hurt for a moment," Buffy told him coldly.

"Miss Elizabeth Anne Summers!" William said most indignantly. "When did you become such an…an ill-mannered upstart! And where the devil is your chaperone?"

He was trying to act innocent, now? To Buffy, it was just one more sign of the vampire. What he had done was cruel, and cruelty was second nature to the vampire.

Buffy lifted the stake, prepared to drive the wood into his chest...and then he _breathed_.

"Elizabeth! Buffy! Have you quite lost control of your senses?"

Buffy grabbed her chest with the one hand not gripping the wooden stake, closing her eyes as she drew in a deep breath to steady herself.

Dear Lord, what had she almost done? She could feel his breath, warm against her skin, see his pulse beating at his throat.

William was _not_ dead.

Buffy dropped the stake, ignoring it as it fell soundlessly into the manicured grass near their legs. She then dragged him upwards to his feet, and smacked a bewildered William across his upper arm, barely mindful of her strength.

"I thought you were a bloody vampire!" she snapped, anger quickly appearing to take place of her shock.

"A - ?" William blinked down at her in the darkness, confusion, and surprise crossing his face. "Beg pardon, but you thought I was a _what_?"

"Oh! Never mind!" Buffy sighed in disgust. "Just - be on your way, William!"

"B-but Elizabeth, what on earth - "

"William, it is not safe here! Just go! I made a dreadful mistake."

Suddenly looking self-righteous, William drew himself up, glaring down his nose at her in that annoyingly priggish way of his. "I'll daresay you have - "

Buffy frowned and took a step forward, only to hear a faint crunch beneath her slipper.

William went very still, and then winced, closing his eyes. He sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"Oh…I'm afraid I've ruined your spectacles." Buffy winced too as she bent over to retrieve them. She held up the twisted gold frames, both missing their glass lenses.

William took the frames from her gingerly, obviously trying not to touch her lest her obvious lunacy somehow befall him as well. "Er...It's all right. I only need them to read, you see…and to write."

"But you wear them all the time - ?"

William's face broke out into a devastating white grin. "But then I _write_ all the time, don't I?"

Buffy felt her breath leave her chest in a frantic, unexpected rush. His wide, unhesitating smile transformed his features.

"Now, then, would you mind telling me precisely why you tried to gore me with that - that - "

"Stake?"

"Yes!" William abruptly stopped smiling and glared fiercely at her. "What were you thinking?"

What could she say? Buffy shrugged elegantly. "I'm a vampire slayer. I'm afraid I mistook you for one."

"Nonsense!" William blustered.

"It's the truth," Buffy insisted.

"Medication. Yes. That must be it, you're on some kind of medication, and you've gone without today - Mother has the same condition - " William was mumbling.

"I'm not taking medication!"

William looked up, startled by her vehemence. "Are you quite all right?"

"I'm telling you I'm a vampire slayer, you fool!"

He again regarded her as if she were a lunatic, and was thinking of how best to escape from her should she turn violent on him.

"A vampire slayer…yes. A, er, memorable appelation, to say the least. Of course. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend. Perhaps I should see you home, Elizabeth. You…you seem rather excitable this evening…have you been reading those awful penny dreadfuls _again_ - ?"

"William!"

The scholarly young gentleman scratched his chin. "Perhaps it is all those stories the gossips have been sharing about - the ones about all those recent killings and disappearances?" He shuddered. "Frightful to think of, really, but then, as I seem to recall, you always have been fascinated by such peculiarities - "

"No need to be rude, William," Buffy snapped, cutting him off.

"Besides, I'm not the only one here who has been behavin oddly tonight." She gave him a reprimanding look. "I know what you did to Cecily. And while I dislike her immensely, and think she deserved it, that wasn't at all like you, William."

William rubbed the back of his neck in embarassment at having been caught. "I know."

"What did she do to you, William?"

"She...she only just bruised my pride, is all, I suppose."

But Buffy could see it had been far worse than that.

"You really...love her?"

"No," he sighed, after a long moment. "I thought I did, but now, after seeing her for what she truly is - "

"A detestable, lying, obnoxious cow?" Buffy supplied sweetly.

William looked at her sternly, but there was a slight curl to his lips, and a dimple threatening to wink at her from his lean cheek.

"Are you certain you don't still want her? She certainly seemed interested. It would be a socially advantageous match - that, and she _is_ bloody rich," Buffy pointed out bluntly.

"No, no." William waved his hand in dismissal. "I am done with her."

"Are you? Truly? You fall in love far too easily, dear William. It makes me frightened for you."

William didn't say anything.

"Well, I for one, am happy to see you rid of her." Buffy stuck her chin out determinedly. "Frankly, the sight of your fawning over her made me feel quite ill."

William's attention perked. He turned a watchful gaze on her. "Why would it bother you? You are not jealous?"

"Certainly not! It is just that she has an empty head, and an even more hollow heart. She's...she's beneath you, William."

William started visibly at her last words. He opened and shut his mouth a number of times before ducking his head, and mumbling, "That is precisely what she told me."

"What?"

"I... Lasher, he read one of my poem's out loud to her, and she...she told me I was beneath her."

"How dare she tell you that you are inferior! Especially when she is the one who hides so many ugly faults just beneath the surface!"

"And I have so very much merit just beneath mine," he murmured, his voice filled with self-loathing.

"Do not compare yourself to her, William. She is one of many - utterly forgettable." Buffy said airily.

"As am I, I'm afraid," William said on a great, indrawn breath. He straightened his shoulders, however, Buffy noticed, and she smiled. He would get over this.

_'I could never forget you,' _she told him mentally, her eyes kind and caring as they rested on his fair face. Her fingers fairly itched to brush away the soft, clumsy dark-gold curls resting in his blue-eyes, and she clenched her hands into fists as she forced herself to laugh.

"Well, one certainly could not call your poetry forgettable. Indeed, I would say they are actually quite memorable!"

"You are laughing at me!" William accused, his cheeks flushing.

"Not at all! But, perhaps, dear William, you should try your hand at writing erotic sonnets - those would be _certain to capture her attention!" Buffy giggled._

"I am not looking to write the most perfect poem of our age, Elizabeth," he told her with a gently censorius glance. "But I would hope to leave behind something a bit less trifling."

Buffy could see that she had hurt him with her teasing. She sighed, and looked at him with tender compassion. His was such a gentle soul - easily bruised, and already battered.

"I'm sorry, William. Truly - what your poetry lacks in, er...complexity, it more than makes up for in sincerity."

William's eyes lit up at this, and for a moment he looked at her as if he'd never seen her before.

"Honestly, I have heard it said that even if one's poetry is bad, it is still a clear indication of what exists in one's soul."

William gave a small, bitter laugh. "Your words are a revelation, Miss Summers. So, what you are saying is that deep down, my soul is every bit as bad as my poetry?"

"Oh, stop it!" Buffy suddenly raved. "That is not what I meant, and you very well know it! Your poetry comes from within your _soul_, William, and however cruelly people may view it, it _is_ poetry. What does it matter if it is dreadfully sentimental? You shouldn't be so self-conscious about it! It probably does you a world of good, getting all of it off your chest by writing about your feelings. Keeping it stuffed up inside would be terribly unhealthy. I demand that you keep writing, William, and what's more, that you cease feeling sorry for yourself this instant! It's unbecoming a gentleman."

"I do not recall ever having been both praised and insulted in one breath," William finally said quietly after an uncomfortably long pause. "Allow me to congratulate you on your skill."

"Please do not take offense." Buffy bit her lip, and her eyes flickered away. It was so absurd that she was standing in the dark, in the middle of a garden, talking to William Pratt of all people. It was very sad to acknowledge that this was actually the most 'normal' night she'd had in years.

_'William...'_

Buffy looked back at him as he sighed.

"I do...care about you, William. Please don't be angry with me."

Caught in the midst of straightening his jacket and waist-coat, William stopped what he was doing and abruptly ran his hands through his hair.

"I am not angry with you, Elizabeth. However, I am extremely tired, and my pride has taken all the beatings it can for one night - or possibly, forever." He gave her a small, slightly discouraged smile that made his eyes crinkle at the edges, and Buffy...fell in love.

"Would you like me to see you home?" He asked courteously, and Buffy blinked several times before she pulled her thoughts together enouh to answer him.

"Erm...actually, I have a carriage waiting on the street." She made a vague motion with her hand behind him. "My - my chaperone is waiting there."

"She should be with you," William sniffed, before taking her arm and walking her through the dark lawn to the dimly-lit street at the front of the house.

"She was, earlier," Buffy blurted, "but the crazy old-bird enjoys the company of spirits much more than mine, you see." She almost laughed - how would Giles have liked to hear himself referred to in such a manner?

William _tsk'd. _"Such irresponsibility. Clearly not a professional. You should have your guardian see that she is turned away."

"Mm," Buffy agreed.

As they reached the curb, and the nondescript black carriage waiting in the line on the opposite side of the street, Buffy reluctantly released her hold on William's deceptively well-muscled forearm.

"I - well, goodnight, William." She turned away, her eyes and chest aching.

"Buffy - Elizabeth. Do you suppose we shall see each other again?"

Buffy turned back to look at him. She could see burgeoning in his eyes the same emotion that was in her heart. She smiled sadly. It was true, what she'd told him earlier.

Poor William fell in love _far_ too easily...

She wasn't certain how to answer his question. She was hunting Angelus, now, and with his reputation...well, her future looked grim, indeed.

"I hope so," she finally told him honestly, and was rewarded with a bright grin.

William cleared his throat, and bowed slightly at the waist. "Yes, well...good evening then, Elizabeth - Miss Summers." He stepped back, eyes still fixed on hers, and she hid a laugh when he nearly stumbled over his own feet.

"Take care, William - and William?"

"Yes?"

"Don't ruin anyone else, agreed?"

William turned bright red. "Agreed."

Buffy waited as the driver opened the door for her, and she climbed inside, not waiting for him or Giles to hand her up. She told the driver to follow William home, at a distance, just to be sure he got there safely, and sat down with a tired moan.

Giles looked at her with a piercing intensity. "Are you quite happy now that you've completely wasted hours of the council's time? That gentleman was _clearly_ not a vampire - even I could tell you that!"

"I believe I could marry that man," Buffy sighed dreamily.

Giles turned pale. "He - ? Miss Summers, you know very well that the council forbids any Slayer to marry - "

"Don't worry," Buffy said with an uncharacteristic somberness. "After what I did tonight, he probably would never have had me, anyway. He doubtless thinks I'm mad."

"It's just as well," Giles mumbled, awkwardly patting her on the shoulder.

"He's beneath you, at any rate. I knew his father at school. A decent chap, but the family's social status these days is, well..._questionable_."

"Oh, its quite the opposite I'm afraid, Mr. Giles," Buffy murmured in return, her gaze lingering with unconscious longing on the back of the man who was walking away...and forever out of her life. For once, Buffy was glad that her existence would undoubtedly be a short one.

To live to see him eventually marry...she would be utterly devastated, she knew.

"I envy her," Buffy said out loud to herself.

What bright, handsome children a quietly passionate man like William would produce. To have such a placid, normal life...

"Whatever are you going on about in that head of yours, Miss?" Giles snapped impatiently.

Buffy turned a winsome smile on him that instantly beffudled the watcher.

"I think I am the one who is beneath him," she elaborated sadly.

"Indeed, I would count myself blessed to be the very ground he walks upon."

--

_**End**_

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_A/N: _Please keep in mind that this is an A/U, or A/R story. Buffy and even William, are probably OOC. The secondary character's names were either made up, or used from some of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer paperback novel's, so don't murder me with corrections by e-mail if you didn't care for them. I barely remembered that Joss finally said William's last name was Pratt, LOL.

This is something that popped into my head after about my millionth viewing of 'Fool for Love'. It's been _over two years _in the making, since I could never decide on the right ending. Anyway, I've always hated the scene where Buffy tells Spike he's 'beneath' her. So much had changed between them by the end that I figured poor William deserved a short story of his own where things turned out…well, better, at least, in the end. Because, let's face it – you just can't look at William and see a completely happy ending for him.

Can you?

Thank you for reading, by the way! This was a really hard story to write. I have never written anything close to an historical, so don't be offended if I haven't gotten much of anything right. I hope you liked it. _- Dev_

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